


A transcending dream

by ainsivalemonde



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Nothing explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:52:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4602291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ainsivalemonde/pseuds/ainsivalemonde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreams are parts of an unknown world, most peculiarly for the dreamers.<br/>Are they the mere revelation of our deepest desires or the sign for a better future?</p><p>Maybe Raoul will finally be able to answer this question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A transcending dream

**Author's Note:**

> Raoul is a bit OOC, but I hope this vision of his mind will  
> be interesting to read.  
> I still have no beta, so do not hesitate to tell me if you see anything wrong.  
> Or just to tell me I can keep writing.

Raoul often dreams of a man in suit.  
The man stands in front of an open window and shows him his back. Raoul never saw his face, but judging from the back of his head, he is a blond.  
Raoul tries not to think too much about it, even though he often dreams of that man. But, when he thinks about it, he wonders who the man may be. He is in suit, so he might be an important person. Perhaps he is a businessman or a banker; unless he is just a smart man who knows what he wants to wear.  
He has done this dream for years when he finally met James Bond in flesh and blood. This one is a blond too; however the atmosphere is utterly different. Bond is cold and all about efficiency. He is a killer… What he is too, for sure, yet he is happy when he is with the man of his dream.  
Everything is peaceful. The light from the window lets him think it’s sunny outside. The wind coming from outside is as warm as the laugh of the man. Now that he lets his mind to wander, Raoul remarks he never heard the voice of the man.  
And now that he is imprisoned at the MI6’s HQ and that he has some hours to himself, Raoul also notices his position in his dream : he sees the man from below, so that he is either sitting or on a bed. He does not really know since his dream never evolved.  
Well, it’s a lie, it did evolve. Last night, the man called him by his real name: Tiago. How a stranger can be so tender with him when an old bitch he had sacrificed everything for does even not deign to call him by his real name?!  
When M leaves, Raoul wishes he has another purpose to live for, one he could give up everything for; to find the man of his dream for instance. How romantic it must sound coming from a man like him! Yet his devious mind refuses to give up his lullaby. Nonetheless, this man must be the product of his imagination. After all, he is sure of nothing! It’s only a dream, a mere reflect of a very deep desire. How Freudian!  
Such strange feeling he has when he sees James running through the moor to save M. He thinks on his own prince in shining armour, the one who would have saved him in Hong Kong.  
So, when Raoul wants to end his days in the chapel, when M is on the verge to die in his arms, he is surprised to see the Scottish man arriving quietly, peacefully.  
« She is dying Raoul. Save yourself. »  
« I can’t! I have lived for this for years. She has to end my pain! »  
James sighed; the man was utterly hysteric and panic-stricken. And it worsened when M gave her last breath.  
« Kill me James! Do it! »  
So James did the only thing that came to his mind, he hit the man behind the head. Everything went black for Raoul Silva.  
Xxxxx xxxxX

He was feeling everythingː the warm wind on his face coming from an open window on his right, the softness of the sheets on his skin and an awful headache. Raoul groaned when he sat up. He took his face between his hands and massaged his temples. So then life keeps clinging to him…Bitch! The Spaniard realised he was not alone in the room.  
In front of the window, a man was standing. Raoul’s eyes grew wilder. The man was wearing a black suit. Obviously he was blond and had both of his hands in his pockets. The vision had something almost supernatural. The wind in the curtains gave the impression the man was an angel.  
« So I’m truly dead this time. »  
A soft laugh came out of the standing stranger. Raoul smiled, the laugh was utterly musical. But his smile vanished when he recognised Bond.  
« Oh… Unless I’m only in Hell. »  
James moved from the window to sit on the chair near Raoul’s bed.  
« Hell? Does it look like Hell? » Bond said, showing the room with his left hand.  
It was a hotel room. The walls were painted with a very soft shade of orange reminding Raoul of the sunrise. The Sun illuminated the room, reflecting thus on the mirror in front of the bed. Flowers were in a vase, on the table. The Spaniard’s look stopped on the floor: it was marbled.  
And he was in a king size bed. The silken sheets were like water on his body.  
« Where did you take me? » Raoul said finally.  
« Siena. I wanted something peaceful and marvellous. »  
Raoul snorted:  
« What for? To torture me? »  
James watched him, quite surprised.  
« To torture you? Why would I do such thing? M is dead, MI6 is under rubble and politicians will get into Mallory’s business very soon. I have no reason to stay, neither to harm you. »  
Raoul relaxed a bit:  
« So, why did you spare me? »  
Remember, you told it yourself: « the last two rats ». »  
It was Raoul’s turn to be surprised:  
« So, you mean… »  
James smiled and passed his hand through Raoul’s hair:  
« Yes, partners, life to death. »  
Raoul took the hand in his hair and squeezed it. Finally he had found the man of his dream.


End file.
